


Unplugged

by thestarsjustblinkforus



Series: 90's Amis [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Road Trip, kurt cobain/nirvana, mtv unplugged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsjustblinkforus/pseuds/thestarsjustblinkforus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They’ve been driving for what feels like a million years and the tape deck in Bahorel’s beat up pick up is fucked up so there’s been no music except for what they’ve sung for themselves and their throats are a good kind of raw and Grantaire feels free for the first time in his life, happy maybe for the first time in a really really long time and it’s weird but kind of good and then awful because it’s going to be gone so fast because nothing good stays ever and he can feel the smile melt off his face, like actually slide right off and hit the floor and sink into the mat at his feet, and Jehan sees it and he leans over and gently bites his earlobe which is a good distraction and sings in his ear, "I know you little libertine..." and Bahorel says, smacking the steering wheel, “Shit, I didn’t tell you fuckers who I saw at the fucking Vic!”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unplugged

_November, '93_

\- - - - - - - - - 

They’ve been driving for what feels like a million years and the tape deck in Bahorel’s beat up pick up is  _fucked_  up so there’s been no music except for what they’ve sung for themselves and their throats are a good kind of raw and Grantaire feels  _free_  for the first time in his life,  _happy maybe_  for the first time in a really really long time and it’s weird but kind of good and then awful because it’s going to be gone so fast because nothing good stays ever and he can feel the smile melt off his face, like actually slide right off and hit the floor and sink into the mat at his feet, and Jehan sees it and he leans over and gently bites his earlobe which is a good distraction and sings in his ear, _["I know you little libertine..."](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qpoqzt2EHaA&noredirect=1)_  and Bahorel says, smacking the steering wheel, “Shit, I didn’t tell you fuckers who I saw at the fucking Vic!”

“Who?” Jehan takes one of his barrettes from his hair and puts it in Grantaire’s, punctuating the plastic *click* with a kiss on the cheek and he really loves Jehan ok, he really loves Bahorel too because he can sing like Mark Lanegan and he’s old enough to drive them across 5 states (Or. At least he’s old enough to  _drive_ ) and holy shit their parents are gonna be so fucking pissed but he doesn’t even really give a shit because there’s actually a good chance his won’t know he’s gone at all but whatever because Bahorel just said he saw _Combeferre at The Breeders concert._

“You saw  _Combeferre_  at  _The Breeders_   _concert_?”

“Yeah, the lights came up and he was like, three people away from me. We smoked up in the alley and got cheese fries at Muskies after. Combeferre is cool.”

“I knew that,” Jehan says twirling the air freshner that doesn’t even smell like a pine tree anymore as much as the cardboard it’s printed on and Grantaire watches it spin one way and then the other trying to picture Combeferre in a pit and just can’t do it and Jehan starts humming _"Do You Love Me Now?"_  and seriously all this talk of Combeferre is making him think of Enjolras because, like, everything makes him think of Enjolras these days which he recognizes is a problem but his heart is stomping to the beat of the song anyway that’s not even playing because  _fucked tape deck_  but, yeah, Jehan’s soft, _["Do you think of me… Like I dream of you..."](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KflW4EsVL7o&noredirect=1)_  is making his shoulders go tight and he closes his eyes.

“Was Enjolras there?” 

and he pictures him crowd surfing, arms out in a fucking Jesus pose floating over a sea of hands wearing nothing but his jeans slung crazy low, skin glowing in the blue dark and the twisting white lights lighting him up like an atom bomb flash…

“Fuck no,” Bahorel laughs shaking his head at the thought, and he can feel Jehan’s eyes on him as they pull off the highway and into a rest stop. Bahorel announces, “Gotta piss,” and leaves the car running so they can keep the heat going. It’s fogging up the windows and Grantaire draws a smiley face on his with x’s for eyes and a crooked smile that’s like his crooked smile and Jehan’s still looking and he can feel the question coming before he asks it.

“Do you like him because he looks like Kurt?”

Grantaire mumbles “Who?” not wanting to talk about it even with Jehan because Enjolras is private. Like the most private thoughts he’s ever had are about him, thoughts that make him feel twisted up and hot and sticky and gross and then euphoric like a really good hit or coming and he doesn’t touch himself when he thinks about Enjolras because he doesn’t even have to but either way he feels awful after and he hates it he hates it but he _wants to touch him_ , like, just put one finger on him, like, the hollow of his throat, rest his index finger right there for a minute.

“Enjolras. Is that why you like him so much?”

He doesn’t answer and Jehan doesn’t make him, he just tugs on the cuffs of his sweater peaking out from his puffy coat and Grantaire draws another crooked smile as Bahorel lopes across the parking lot and then climbs back into the truck announcing that that bathroom just made  _numero uno_  in the _Places One of Us Might Get Murdered On The Road_  game that Jehan made up when punch buggy was proving unsatisfying.

“Bahorel. I have a question for you.”

“Jehan. I have an answer for you.”

“My question is this: Do you think Enjolras looks like Kurt?”

He lights a cigarette, takes a drag and blows out with the smoke, “Maybe. If you punch yourself in the head and squint.”

“He’s prettier than Kurt,” Grantaire mutters and then digs his nails into his palms because  _shut up shut up shut up_  and he bites his lip so he won’t say anything else and Jehan takes one of his hands and uncurls it in his lap, one finger at a time, tracing the half moons he’s made.

“No one’s prettier than Kurt,” Bahorel says and then considers. “Except Kim Deal. I was gonna find her after and ask her to take my virginity-”

“You don’t have that anymore-”

“-and Combeferre was gonna ask her why the Pixies broke up which is an excellent fucking question. Combeferre is also smart.”

“I knew that too.”

“And then we got hungry and got cheese fries instead because the security guards were being dicks and they were taking a fucking year to come out so we never got to offer ourselves, which Ferre was totally into by the way. Ferre’s cool. I didn’t try to make out with him though.”

“Bahorel?”

“Yep.”

“I know we said we weren’t going to sing Nirvana until after the concert-”

“Delayed gratification.”

“Yes, that. But. I’d like us to do one.”

“Sure ok.”

They pull back onto the road and Jehan starts, [ _“I’m on my time with everyone… I have very bad posture…"_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6p0xK307VKU)

And Bahorel and Grantaire join in on the chorus and holy fuck it hits him all over again that they’re going to be seeing Krist and Dave and  _Kurt_  tonight because Grantaire’s sister is the best person in the known universe and she’s been fucking an intern at MTV and got them  _tickets to the Unplugged show_  and he kind of had to sit down and cry into the phone when she told him and she got really worried, her voice did that shaky thing it does when it sounds like she’s going to cry too and he’d assured her that he wasn’t upset (he was upset) that he was happy (he was so fucking happy) and she said _if you can get here, they’re yours._

So they’re getting there.

Bahorel picked him and Jehan up from Jehan’s at 1am and they ran across Jehan’s massive lawn because the Prouvaire’s are fucking loaded as fuck and jumped into the bed of the truck like they were escaping from prison (they were escaping from prison) and Bahorel howled like a banshee as the tires squealed on the pavement and Grantaire and Jehan rolled around in the back clutching each other for purchase banging their elbows and heads and knees on everything until Jehan yelled into the morning  _“I can’t die before I hear them live!”_  and Bahorel pulled over and they bundled into the cab with him and they’re almost halfway there, they’re almost halfway, they’re rolling down the windows and the air is clean and November-cold and  _“Distill the life that’s inside of me…”_ punches the morning in the face and sometimes being young is shit, but sometimes it feels like  _this_  and Jehan leans into him as he sings still smoothing out the marks he’s made on his palm and Bahorel pounds out the rhythm on the steering wheel his cigarette hanging off this lip and that weird realization that he’s happy comes creeping back and he sinks into it, sinks into singing and smoke and deep breaths of fresh air and  _distill the life that’s inside of me…_

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of my [90's Amis Verse](http://90samis.tumblr.com/) that sprung from [this post](http://90samis.tumblr.com/post/112650106027/grantaire-unplugged). 
> 
> This verse takes place in Chicago, roughly '91/'92-'99. Some of the places mentioned can be found [here](http://90samis.tumblr.com/post/112652599877/90s-amis-some-places-of-note-part-i) such as The Vic (a concert venue) and Muskies (a diner that has since burned down and become a Bank of America :().
> 
> I'll post some of the longer fics here, but the blog is full of short fics and tag fics, images, links, etc - come say hi if you like :)!


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